Chapter 22 #2
“You’re doing something with the terms and conditions,” she said slowly. But Luke knew that didn’t work, since they’d already tried it. Why was he upset?
“See, the human gets it. The problem with you hell types is that you’re still positively medieval. That contract hasn’t been updated since you signed the things with quills. What you need is someone with vision. And an MBA.”
“And that’s you.” Morgan said.
Brad smiled. “Opportunity is all about the right idea at the right time.”
Was there anything more dangerous than a tech bro with an opportunity? She’d need to be careful—CEOs didn’t have any obligation to explain themselves to junior employees. What might convince him to spill? “But why the switch to consumer?”
His eyes lit up. Ah, the power of mansplaining.
“I thought of it while I was reading through your little contract.” He leaned back in his chair again.
“You know, big company contracts get read by dozens of lawyers. People go through them with a fine-tooth comb. But consumer contracts? Who reads the T&C on their new device? People joke all the time about pledging away your firstborn child on one of those things.”
She suddenly felt like she was listening to this from very far away.
Her feet were cold and Brad’s voice sounded like it was on the other side of a pane of glass.
She couldn’t manage to feel anything at all.
Yet the logistics part of her brain kept running.
Morality aside, surely someone would notice and then it would be a PR disaster.
“We can’t buy people’s children for a kitchen appliance. ”
“We can’t accept non-signatories’ souls at all. It’s non-binding,” Luke murmured as if it were an explanation.
“Relax,” Brad jumped to his feet, pacing. “We’re not going to be stealing babies. God, can you imagine the inventory issues? No, we’ll stay noncorporeal, much easier to scale. When this guy’s people get the soul, they don’t keep them all, do they?”
“Once we have title to the soul, it’s sold to third parties,” Luke said quietly. She didn’t dare look at him.
“See? Customers deed Zabloom their souls, we pass them on to Hell, demons securitize them. Souls-as-a-Service. I’d call it SaaS if the acronym weren’t claimed.” Brad grabbed an energy drink from the personal mini-fridge under his desk. “All for a fee, of course.”
“They have to know they’re consenting to a Deal,” Morgan said. “It won’t take if they don’t understand what they’ve done.”
“Understand? Or believe?” Brad smiled. “We tell them we’re buying their souls. Or rather, we tell them we’re buying a fraction of their soul. It’s hilarious, and we’ll make it up on volume. There’s a brand out there called Liquid Death. It’s literally water. People eat this shit up.”
“A fraction of their soul?” Now she was truly lost.
“Absolutely. It’s way less threatening than the whole thing, and it’s funnier.
But it’s also about resale value. You gotta think long term.
We’re going to open up the market on securitized souls, but there’s no limit to how much we can expand.
Once this becomes a standard, we’re going to be the market maker. ”
This. This had to be what had Luke so upset.
Brad continued. “Who makes money in a gold rush, huh? Because we’re sitting on the edge of a gold rush here.”
Morgan kind of remembered this from history class. “The shopkeepers?”
“Exactly. Sell shovels. Do you know who reliably makes out in something like crypto? The folks who handle the transactions and take a tiny cut of each one. This is only the first step. We’re going to get the market up and running and then we’re going to build the world’s first soul exchange.
And take a sliver of miracle on each and every sale. ”
“That’s…” Morgan trailed off. Evil? Insane? “Probably not going to work.”
“Oh, it’s going to work. You know that hot Latina chick from Ravenfell? Rihanna?”
“Renata.”
“Whatever. She ran the numbers. Those Ravenfell folks have dealt with these demon assholes before and made them their bitches. No offense.”
“I don’t see how that would not be offensive,” Luke started. Morgan stomped his foot.
Brad waved his hand. “Yeah, yeah, sorry, I’ll make a donation to the anti-demon defamation league or something, send me the link. Anyway, point is, she thinks it’s airtight.”
He chugged the last of the energy drink and tossed the container overhand like a basketball, for it to land next to the wastebasket.
He ignored it rather than cleaning up his own mess.
“So. Carrots and sticks, right? We don’t have to stay with the stick.
Carrots are good, great for eyesight and all that.
You’re right in on the ground floor, as long as you toe the line.
We’re going to revolutionize the soul industry and still sell the must-have present under the tree. Win-win.”
“Who’s winning?” She asked, sick to her stomach.
“Well, us. Obviously.” He chuckled. “I can’t wait to see GreenField match this pivot.”
“What do you mean?” she grasped at the least important part of this nightmare.
“We’ve got their demon running scared,” Brad said, smiling. “Can’t you tell? They follow every change we make but they won’t see the important part until it’s too late. We’re gonna take them down.”
He rubbed his hands together. “God, I love to win.”